Be Very Still
by Amy J Writes
Summary: My interpretation of that empty little white space on page 85 of Breaking Dawn... the wedding night. One-shot, Bella's POV. Rated a sexy but tasteful M, I think.


**This is me, dipping my toe into the fan-fiction waters for the first time. This is meant to fit right in that maddening white space that Stephenie left in Breaking Dawn for Bella & Edward's wedding night. I can only assume she did that because she wanted us to use our own imaginations... so I did. I tried to make it as true to the characters and style as possible. Please let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: This is the part where I say I don't own any of this, right? Yeah, I don't own Twilight or the characters. Not even Edward.**

* * *

"Be very still." Those were the words he breathed over me now, the very same words he had spoken all those months ago in the meadow, our meadow. It seemed a lifetime away, that precious first day together. How much we had experienced since then – separation, fear, danger, yes, but also love – always love.

From this love was born trust – I trusted in myself, in what I wanted, and I trusted in Edward. I believed that he wouldn't hurt me, and I believed it fiercely enough for the both of us. Our love manifested in me through this unwavering trust.

It was different for Edward. He rarely trusted himself and though he believed in our love he didn't trust that my ideas about our future were the right ones. It made for seemingly irreconcilable differences, were it not for the sweet reality that our love magnified Edward's selflessness. So despite his fears for my safety, my soul, he couldn't help but try to give me everything I wanted.

All I wanted now – it seemed, in fact, to be the only thing I'd ever truly craved – was him. Edward had promised we would try, as husband and wife, which we now were. But I wasn't about to settle for just a good "try." I wanted Edward – more than just his beautiful body, more than with just teenage lust – although, if I was honest, I knew that was part of it. And while I was supremely confident that we would succeed, I knew Edward well enough to understand that he felt losing his control would result in the worst possible scenario. Knowing this, I had vowed to myself to behave, to will my body to restrain itself, to go at his pace instead of my own.

So when Edward murmured in my ear to "be very still," I pulled together every fiber of my frail human willpower and held my body motionless. It wouldn't stop the erratic thumping of my heart, but it was the best I could do.

He had pulled us out into the deeper water, which broke now just at my shoulders. Taking my wrists in his hands, he brought them to his face one at a time and kissed them with utter tenderness. The look on his face was melting my resolve, and for a fraction of a second I imagined winding my arms around his neck and closing the space between our bodies, displacing warm water for cold skin on hot. From some chasm of sanity deep in my mind, I found the strength to snap my eyes shut. I exhaled. "Not moving," I promised. I swear I heard him smile.

Eyes clamped shut, I felt him take my wrists and pull my hands apart. My arms skimmed over the surface of the water til they floated straight out from my sides.

"Stay," he said, as if he was willing my open arms into submission. With excruciating slowness, he ran his palms up my arms, across the delicate skin of the inside of my elbows, dragging cool drops of water along with his hands until they rested on my shoulders. He hesitated for what could've been half a second or half an hour; it seemed I had lost all sense of time. All I knew was that I had never been so acutely aware of the process of breathing as I was forced to be in that moment.

_Breathe in_. His hands slid ever so gently down the front of my shoulders and under my outstretched arms.

_Breathe out_. Underwater they continued their slow and tormenting path. I knew it wasn't my imagination that his marble smooth wrists brushed the sides of my breasts as his hands moved down my ribcage.

_Breathe in_. His hands curved into my waist and finally slid to a halt atop my hips.

He pulled me a fraction of an inch closer, and I imagined my hands were chained in place to keep from reaching out to him. I sensed him lean in and felt his breath light on my cheek.

"Bella." The meaning of my name had new purpose, describing the sound it made falling with such devotion from his lips. He came a little closer, and pressed a line of kisses across my face, over the bridge of my nose and down the other cheek, ending at the corner of my mouth. Under the water his fingers fanned over my hips and pressed one at a time gently against my skin, as if he was running scales across the keys of his beloved piano.

"What are you thinking?" He murmured his favorite question against my forehead, perhaps directly to my impervious brain. His fingers were still playing some forgotten music against my sides.

Was I still capable of speech? I tested my voice out in the night air. "I'm just trying to be good. I'm trying, I really am." I paused to consider everything that was racing through my head. It was easier with my eyes closed. "Also, I'm thinking how amazing it feels, your hands, and that I love you." I took a deep breath, meaning to clear my head, but he had moved silently closer and all I could smell and taste was him, in my lungs and on my tongue.

His hands were abruptly off of me, and I was about to protest the loss when I felt him capture my wrists and bring them swiftly up and around his neck. I couldn't help myself; my eyes snapped open in gratitude at his bold move, and there was his lovely face. "And I love you," he said, so close to me that I felt the air of each word as it left his lips. With all the tender hesitation of our very first kiss in the Washington woods, he kissed me here, in the warm Brazilian water. I gingerly grasped the back of his neck with one hand, relishing the way my wet arms felt sliding across his shoulders, and at the same time trying fervently to maintain my control for his sake. He replaced his hands on my sides, slipping them around my back and pulling me closer… closer…

For a split second, so fast I couldn't be sure it was happening, his arms tightened around me and I was pressed – all of me – gloriously against him. I clung to the sensation and perceived briefly that we were moving at his lightening fast pace, and then that we were in the house, and then that I was falling backwards.

I landed gently on mounds of soft white bedding with a thump and a tiny bounce, at which I couldn't help but giggle. Definitely the stuff of romance novels… _He threw the buxom brunette onto the bed, their dripping bodies intertwining passionately in the pale moonlight._ Well, maybe not the buxom aspect. But I was absolutely counting on the intertwining part.

I looked up to see Edward, holding himself over me, smiling his most dazzling crooked half-smile. Would it never cease to affect me? I silently hoped not, as a bead of chilly water rolled off of his shoulder and fell on mine. I shivered and smiled back up at him.

"Are we done swimming?" I tried to sound flirtatious. His grin widened.

"Do you want to go back outside? I'd be happy to take…" his voice trailed off as I had found the courage to run my hands up his arms, which were marble pillars on either side of me.

"I'm just fine right here, thank you very much." That was meant to be flirtatious too, but something about the way he was looking down at me, his golden eyes glowing with desire, turned the mood serious again.

He lowered his body to lay by my side, turned his face to mine and kissed me, his mouth gentle but earnest. I kissed him back headily, feeling like a live wire humming with the vibrant energy of the moment. My head fell back and he slid his lips over my chin and down my neck. One of his arms crept under me, scooping around my back to draw me closer. With his free hand he ran his open palm lightly down my face, dragging it across my open lips, my neck, across my collarbone. His fingers drew an artful path between my breasts and across my stomach and my hip before curling around my knee and drawing my leg up over his side. My mind was furiously attempting to divide its attention between the fluttering of his lips on my neck, and the gap he'd mostly closed between our bodies under the pile of blankets now tucked around us. If it was possible, my heart was racing faster than ever.

Edward smiled against my neck and moved to lay his head over my heart. "Your heart is so loud," he observed reverently. He curled his arms more tightly around me, molding me closer still to himself. "And you're warm – so, so warm. You can't imagine how it feels." His fingers on my back tapped out a _thump-thump_ rhythm to match my heart. "I'm sorry I'm so cold," he added, his voice solemn. "I know it must be…"

I cut him off. "Don't you dare apologize to me for what you are," I said, putting my hands to his face and lifting it to look him in the eye. "I love everything about you, every detail that makes you _you_." I punctuated the words with kisses, willing him to believe me with the force of my lips. "I'm warm enough for the both of us, anyway," I smiled, snuggling myself against him as effectively as I could. "And besides, if I am shivering tonight it probably has very little to do with my temperature…" I trailed off, feeling the blush rise to my skin.

In a motion so fast it left me a little dizzy, Edward was suddenly sitting up with me astride his hips. His hands were in my hair and his voice in my ear was like velvet. "Do you have any idea what your blushing does to me?"

I froze instantly, and a twinge of fear crept into my voice. Had I pushed us too far? "I'm… I'm sorry, I can't help it," I started to apologize.

"Silly wife," he laughed softly, pulling back to look at my face. I relaxed at his tone. "I only meant that it is unbearably _sexy_." He growled the last word and, wrapping an arm around my waist, kissed me. Our lips, pressed together like our bodies, were hard and soft, cold and hot, inexplicably opposite. I couldn't help myself as I scraped my teeth against his bottom lip, and the sound it coaxed from his throat was so edged with want that I happily repeated the act.

He broke away from our kiss to look me in the eye again. His beautiful face beamed with love and adoration, and in his soulful gaze I saw desire without bloodlust. I understood that he was asking my permission, that after this moment we would step across some unmarked boundary never to return. I took a deep breath, tasting as they filled my lungs the scents of sea air, saltwater, sweat, down, but most of all Edward. Then, staring into the face I loved most, I nodded, resting my forehead against his and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"It will hurt. I'm sorry. I love you," he breathed, almost inaudibly.

"I know," I whispered back, two words to answer everything. There was nothing else that needed to be said.

He put a hand on either side of my ribs, his long fingers wrapping around my back, and lifted me up effortlessly. Understanding what was next, I buried my face in his hair and tightened my arms around his neck. Gingerly, in what I imagined for him was an intolerably controlled effort, he lowered me back down, fitting us intimately together.

It did hurt, and at my muffled cry he froze. Worse than the pain was my sudden fear that he might call it all off, and a flood of reassurances escaped my lips. "Don't stop, Edward, please… please… I love you, I trust you, I need this." I pressed my cheek to his and with my mouth at his ear begged him to continue. He said nothing but after a few seconds lowered me gently the rest of the way. I gulped in a big breath and shivered against him, and he slid his hands up to hold my face momentarily away, so he could look at me.

"Bella, love, I have to see you, so I know you are alright," he said, kissing me softly. "It will help me. Do you understand?" I did, and murmured my comprehension.

"Stay with me," he whispered, locking into my gaze and moving his hands back to hold my sides.

Time and space ceased to exist with Edward staring into my eyes as we made love. The sharper pains ebbed away into a tolerable dull ache, making room for the knot of pleasure coming undone in my stomach. I discovered to my great delight that what seemed to please Edward most was my response, and so tossing the remnant of my inhibitions aside I focused on letting him know how deliriously happy he was making me. It wasn't difficult; there was nothing manufactured about the whimpers falling from my lips or the way I couldn't seem to help my head falling back or my hands clutching at his hair.

His capable hands lifted and lowered me as easily as if I were weightless, with maddeningly slow and restrained movements. I was desperate for more, but I tried to remember that Edward needed to maintain control. My body, however, had its own agenda, and without permission from my mind it was taking over. My whimpers turned to moans and I couldn't stop from pressing myself against him hungrily. The next time he started to lower me gently, I pushed my hips down purposefully. He drew in a breath sharply.

"Bella," he started, but his voice was shaky. I didn't want to wait for him to stop me, instead repeating the motion, with more force. This time his arms tightened around me, crushing us closer together. _Victory, _I thought with exhilaration. I dipped my head and kissed him feverishly. Edward groaned against my frenzied lips, and I drove myself against him again.

"Bella, I love you, I love you, please, don't move…" The words came tumbling suddenly out, his voice wild and shaking. He seized me to him, and if it was too tight an embrace I didn't care. I held myself impossibly motionless, clutching his head to my chest as he trembled against me, until at last in the dark he too was still. With one great sigh he loosened his arms the tiniest amount, and I automatically drank in the deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been missing. I was still frozen, unsure of what was next and unwilling to extricate myself from his arms.

Abruptly I was on my back and Edward was folding us down into the welcoming soft blankets. "Thank you, my love, my Bella, Isabella," he whispered hoarsely, and before I could respond he was over me, around me, in me, kissing me. He continued murmuring my name into my skin, claiming me in each place he kissed on my face, my neck, my chest. I closed my eyes and clung to him, sensation replacing comprehension. His marble cold skin sliding against mine hot and feverish, like the stinging relief of aloe on a sunburn. My breath, quick and catching in the dark of the room, coupled with the soft rustle of sheets. And his hands, his hands, everywhere at once and I would never have enough. Every sensitive place leapt and sang at his marvelous touch, and at last the knot in my stomach came utterly and erratically unraveled. In the throes of my frantic undoing I bit down on his shoulder, my teeth pressing harmlessly against his impenetrable skin. I heard Edward swear in my ear, so low I might have imagined it, accompanied by the strangest sound, like ripping fabric.

At last I was able to stop shuddering beneath him, and he brushed my hair back from my face and for a long moment just gazed into my eyes. Then he kissed me tenderly on the forehead, and rolling us over, he pulled me across his cool chest and tucked my head under his chin. My mind was grasping at consciousness, trying to appreciate the magnitude of what we'd just accomplished. But my body was spent, and with Edward humming my lullaby, I drifted to sleep.


End file.
